


Not like this...

by QxzVIl



Series: I want to be with you/I trust you [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek POV, Kissing, M/M, Non-sexual, adding tags as I go, srs buisness, talking about a relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2013-06-11
Packaged: 2017-12-14 17:11:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/839330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QxzVIl/pseuds/QxzVIl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek and Stiles both want something similar in this relationship. Derek is willing to trust Stiles enough to be with him. And Stiles wants to try this out. Name of the series is Stiles to Derek, and then Derek to Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not like this...

**Author's Note:**

> I basically just wanted a fic where Derek and Stiles, instead of being together sexually, they're in a relationship and that's it. I don't really want them to be sexually involved with each other (maybe later, but that's a BIG maybe) because that's what i want to see on the show. Meh, i'm not getting into that in the notes section. But, feel free to message me on here if you're interested :)
> 
> Enjoy!

The Alpha pack was dealt with. Everybody was finally getting over their trust problems, personal issues, and deaths that were giving them problems. It was good. Great, even, that instead of stressing about the next freak of the week, they could focus on college applications and what to wear for senior prom, or whatever it is they obsess over.

Instead of wolfsbane bullets, it’s bobby pins.

Instead of black t-shirts and leather boots, it’s bathing suits and flip flops.

Fall was brutal. And winter brought death. But with spring, blossoming trees buried all the death that had occurred. And with summer, everyone could forget the harsh cold of winter, and the threats from before. There was no more need for protection from anything supernatural. () Nothing needed to truly be done.

Well, there was one thing that _could_ be done.

Stiles light was on, the window already open to hopefully try to catch a nonexistent breeze in the July heat. Even from here, I could smell the sweat, the low hum of the fan on high, the movement on the sheets without a blanket. Occasionally he would walk by the window to get something, but not often, probably trying to stay as cool as possible, while moving as little as possible.

I move towards the house, climbing up it until I’m perched right outside the window. He’s got a book open to a random page to his right, and he’s reading something on his phone. Even though the windows open, I knock on the glass, to not surprise him. He looks up, and his face brightens a little bit. “’Sup, man?” He puts his phone down and sits up. He cut his hair shorter to his head, and his sleeves were rolled up, revealing creamy white skin dotted with moles.

I swallow, but recover. “Just thought I’d, y’know… _knock”_ _Smooth,_ I think quietly, jumping into his room.

“Well, thanks for not- _woah._ ” He stopped mid-sentence, looking at my bare legs. “Dude, you’re not wearing pants.” He meets my eyes for a second, but looks back at my legs.

My eyebrows draw down. “Uh, I’m still wearing _something._ ” I lean against the wall, arms crossed.

He laughs. “Don’t be a creep.” He gestures to the chair to my left. When I sit, he continues. “I’m just not used to seeing you in anything _but_ pants.” He pauses for a second, thoughtful. “I’d imagine your legs to be paler.”

I scoff. “There are a lot of things you imagined wrong about me. Besides,” I nod to him. “At least I _am_ tan. You could give a tub of vanilla ice cream a run for its money.”

“Is that so?” He says, leaning back on his arms. “I’ll have you know that I _like_ vanilla. And I burn easily, thanks.” He’s both sad and smug at the same time, but doesn’t let it get to him. “So, what can I do for you this overtly hot night?”

That’s the part that was tricky; telling him. “Can’t I just hang around without a reason?” A cocked eyebrow accompanies, and he splutters, looking for words that momentarily escaped him.

“Well, I guess… But it’s just…”

“It’s just what, Stiles?” I ask, scooting closer.

“Normally you have a reason why. This is just…” the words escape him again.

“Random?” I fill in. He nods. “Well, maybe I just wanted to see you. That enough of a reason?”

He doesn’t need to say anything, because the red that appears on his face is enough. Suddenly he jumps up, taking a step back to steady himself. “Bathroom!” he calls out, making a quick exit of the room. I lean back, letting out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

Well, _that_ couldn’t have gone any worse.

Or, it could have ended awfully.

No, that’s nonsense. That blush was proof.

Or was it not?

Stiles enters after a few minutes, and I move without knowing it. Before I can think, say _anything_ , my mouth is crushed against his.

He makes a sound of surprise, eyes flying open, before he’s pushing me against the wall, stronger than I remembered. When he catches his breath, he stares at me, wiping his mouth. “Dude, a _little forewarning_ before you try to eat my mouth.” He moves away, sits on the bed, looking back at me.

“I-I’m sorry… I should-“

He points a finger to the chair, shaking his head. “You’re not going anywhere. I’m not going to let you sulk about something I’ve thought about doing myself.”

My eyebrows fly up, worry disappearing. “You mean…?”

“uh-uh,” he points once more to the chair. “Not saying anything else until you sit and we can talk about this.” When I resume position, facing him and scooted closer, he scratches a hand over his head before continuing.  "Now that I can actually _feel_ my lips again, I can talk.”

Worry fills my head again. “Sorry. I haven’t really done that since Erica.” The words are bitter, but they’re there.

“Well,” Stiles shrugs. “It was more teeth than lips, and I might have hit my head against the wall. But, it wasn’t _horrible._ I might be up for that again…” There was more, I could sense it.

“But…?”

“Seriously, Derek?” He stares at my face. “For real? Fine. That kiss was fine. A little too much teeth, like I said, but we can fix that. I _want_ to fix it. But… the prospect of having sex, being intimate like _that_ with each other, it just… it gives me cold feet. Makes me almost not want this _at all._

“So, what I’m saying in short is… Derek, I _like you._ But not like this…” He thinks for a second, realizing how that sounds, and backpedals. “I mean… I want to be in a relationship. But, not with, y’know… _sex._ ” He says the last word kind of small, waiting for me to tear his head off at that. But I just look at him with a relieved look on my face. “y-you’re not mad?”

I chuckle, just a bit. “Why would I? All you’ve said is that you want to be in a non-sexual relationship with me. No harm in that.” He seems to agree with it, so I keep going. “I was only in one relationship, you know the one.” He nods. “She kind of ruined something _inside_ of me. I don’t have a desire for anyone in that way anymore.” I pull my chair a bit closer, so there’s maybe a foot or two separating us. “But, there’s just _something_ that I like about being around you. Maybe it’s your scent, or your energy, or just you in general.” That last part makes him smile. “But, I do know that I’d like to be around you. Maybe once a week, or for the rest of our lives.”

He smiles. “You mean sort of like an anchor?” I think about it, and yeah; that seems about right? I nod, and he gets it, completely. “I’ve read a lot about this whole thing, so you don’t have to go into _too much_ depth.” He smiles. “But, we can still kiss, right? Cause that, I’m okay with.”

“As am I.” I say, thinking about this for a second. “If there’s anything you want from me-either to try out or something else entirely-feel free to ask.” I say it quickly, trying, and failing, not to sound like an idiot.

“I, uh… think I’m good in _that sense._ What I worry about is that _you’ll_ want something else, and I won’t be ready to _give_ to you.” his face drops, and he already seems to be thinking this is a bad idea.

Before I can let him think that, I close the gap, taking his face in my hands. “Stiles; I wouldn’t do that to you. Ever. If you want something, you ask it.” Pause. “You take the lead in this relationship. I’ll follow you.”

He looks up, eyes starting to turn glassy. “Really?”

I nod. “Of course. You’re my anchor, after all. If you’re not happy, not stable, then I can feel it.” It was true. “But, just so you know, I’m giving you something I haven’t given anyone else since before; my trust.”

“Of course.” He’s closer now, our foreheads touching. “I’ll never do what she did to you. And I’ll make sure it never happens again, so long as Captain America is better than Iron Man.”

I give him a look. “We’ll see about that.”

His mouth is open. “Oh hell no; not you too! Y’know, I don’t think this can work. We might have to-“ I cut him off with another kiss, softer this time, less teeth, and less urgency. When we pull back, the kiss was, well… perfect.

“So, I guess we’re sort of in a relationship?” He asks, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

I chuckle. “You guess?”

“Fine, we _are_ in a relationship.” He thinks about it. “Actually, no. Not until you do one thing for me.”

I look at him, expecting something awful. “What _exactly_ did you have in mind?” I steel my nerves silently, waiting for it.

He smiles. “Have dinner with my dad?”

Yep. I should have expected this. “Alright. Just tell him to lock up his shotgun in the gun cabinet.”

His grin is big. “Deal.”


End file.
